To go into a store and ask for EXACTLY what YOU want, and not what you memorized your mum saying.

To pick your own book, whichever it is, and buy it. (Yes, I like P.G. Wodehouse, mommy. No, I don’t want an Indian writer instead. Gosh, with your patriotism.)

To have your own purse/wallet.

To be able to stick your head up and say “18+” at movie theatres. (I look 15? Well, f**k you, mister usher.)

To move cities, nay, countries to go to university.

To have your own room, your own apartment, your own couch, your own food. (Comes with a price. CLEANING.)

To be able to earn your own money. (Comes with a price. Bad flirting. And extreme patience.)

To be able to live in a world where a girl and a guy are together and it isn’t a blasphemy. (No, mommy, we aren’t canoodling. We’re just talking. On the phone. Jesus Christ, stop it.)

To be able to pop in at home for thanksgiving/diwali, and try to survive through another night of the terrible tales of familyzilla. (If you say you don’t think so, you’re either lying, or you’re lying.)

To be able to smile and think how much you miss this, but don’t ever want to move back. (If you say you don’t think so, you’re either lying, or you’re lying.)

To wear your first tux that your mum didn’t pick out for you, or worse, stitch it for you.

To have your first kiss.

To have your first good kiss. (God knows, and so do you, there is a big difference.)

To get to the canoodling bit your parents described to you as ‘tickling’ or worse, ‘an abomination’ during those extremely uber uncomfortable sex-ed sessions. (We’ve all been there, and it has NOT been pretty. None of the 24 times, mommy.)

To get your own coffee the way you like it and not having to justify to your mum why you added another cream to it because “Don’t you know it’s fattening, dear! Come on!” (I know it’s fattening, mum. That’s what makes it tastier.)

To take that walk in the park alone at dusk, because, meh, you’re old enough. Nobody’s going to mug you when you look all grown-up and fancy. (Boy, was I wrong.)

To NOT need that night-time light, because everybody knows the monsters are afraid of the grown-ups. You don’t see the grown-ups look under THEIR beds before they sleep, now do you?

To go the nearest Walmart, and fill with cart with midnight snack junk and NOT HAVE ANYONE QUESTION IT. (This matters big time, and you know it.)

A lot of things that we wanted, we got. But, it wasn’t always pretty.

So, to those kids who’re wishing they grow up fast, I say NEVER GROW UP.

To those fellow-sufferers who’ve grown up already, I say, don’t tell the kids the fun parts.

What would you like to see? …Or read?

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